Fight
by TheMultiverseTheory
Summary: In a world where running away is the first instinct for survival, and the humans are being hunted to extinction, fighting back is easier said than done.


There were times when Teresa thought she was just sleeping. Times like when she spilled juice all over Patrick Darrey, her crush in middle school. Times like when she accidentally ran her mom's Honda into a lamp post. Times like when she discovered her dog was hit by a car. Times like now, when there was a huge alien mothership floating right above her head.

After all these months of surviving, Teresa knew now that you could still be living in a nightmare with your eyes open. Her entire family was gone, all thanks to the new inhabitants of Earth and their "waves" of extermination. She supposed she should have considered herself lucky to have survived for so long, but it was a life of loneliness and only survival on the mind. It wasn't always like that, even after the Arrival.

Teresa Geller lived a simple life in a Brooklyn apartment with her mom and older sister. Her father had died when she was three, of leukemia, so her memories of him were practically nonexistent. Now she regretted not asking about him more often, when his memory had died along with her sister and mother. She did remember looking out her bedroom window at the night sky, and wishing for the stars to give her father back. Staring at the stars now only caused her to scoff. They weren't gift givers or wish granters. They were just balls of gas that acted as the sun for their own galaxies and planets. And one of those stars may have even been a sun to the invaders of Earth.

The invaders were smart; at least smarter than humans. Which scared people of course, who were used to being top of the food chain. When the alien ship started passing over New York City, most people moved away. It was fight or flight, and how could someone fight _that._ Teresa's family was one of them; they had escaped the city and flew to Ohio to stay with her grandmother. A few days after they arrived, the mothership started orbiting over them again. And then a week later, the first wave began. For a few minutes, Teresa remained oblivious to the blackout. She had been playing soccer in the yard with her sister and the boy next door, and for those few minutes everything was normal. For those few minutes, there was no alien invasion. But then the screams began.

She remembered every detail from that day. Waking up with the normal worries of a teenage girl: was her hair too curly or too red? Was it possible to hide the freckles smattered over her nose? She had looked into the mirror to see bright green eyes staring back at her, the only part of her she never grew self-conscious about. Her mother told her she got them from her father. In a way, Teresa felt her father watching over her when she looked into the reflection of her eyes. It comforted her like it usually did, and the feeling stayed with her for the rest of the day. That is, until she heard the sounds of cars colliding, the collection of murmurs from everyone holding up their cell phones, and the slicing of the air as a plane from the sky fell down onto her grandmother's house.

It was an odd sight to see an airplane falling. It was an even odder sight to see her grandmother limp out of the rubble encased in flames. She wondered why the firefighters and ambulances were taking so long. Her grandmother died that day. The ambulances never came.

After the first wave, Teresa and her sister and mother were homeless. The neighbors took them in even though part of their house was damaged by the plane, too. It was not long after the second wave came; this time it was actual waves. All coastal cities were destroyed by tsunamis unlike any other. Teresa remembered the conversation she had with her best friend days before she left the city.

"You're not seriously leaving the city, Tessa? Because of some alien ship that we don't know anything about?" Shana took a sip of coffee and looked out of the café window and up at the sky.

"Exactly, we don't know anything about it. We don't know how to communicate with them, how to find out who they are, how to fight them!" Teresa said a bit too loudly getting worried looks from nearby customers.

"Fight them? They could be friendly for all we know. We have to give them the benefit of the doubt, Teresa."

Teresa rolled her eyes and picked at her split ends.

"Well, I don't know if I want to stay to find out. Not that I have a say in the choice, anyway. My mom's all freaked about it and wants to take my sister out of NYU so we can stay at Nan's for a while."

"Ok, so you're leaving. You _are_ going to come back, right? New York's going to be dull without you."

Teresa laughed. "New York is never dull, Shana, you should know better after sixteen years. But," she added more seriously, "Yea, after this is all over I'll come back home again."

"Good. I'll be waiting. And so will the city; it really wouldn't be the same with you gone."

Shana was in the city during the second wave. There were so many hypotheticals that Teresa could have come up with to believe that her best friend was still alive, but deep down, she knew the truth. She knew, after receiving news that all coastal cities had been demolished, there would never be going home.

She was stupid to think it couldn't get worse. Naïve, when she thought the most awful parts had already passed. That was when the plague happened. There was no vaccine, no cure—only death. It was the extermination of nearly all humankind. With the Avian flu going around, nearly everyone Teresa knew was killed off one-by-one. It started off with the neighbors they were staying with. First the parents of the house, then the little girl, until all who was left was Owen, the seventeen year old boy Teresa had befriended. But this wave was longer than the rest and had still not finished its work. It was then that the plague had taken Teresa's mother as victim. It was then that Teresa's older sister, Anne, decided they had to leave; again. Owen came with them this time, seeing as he had no one else, and the three headed to a nearby refugee camp.

Life was okay in the camp. The three did their chores, had warm meals, and a safe place to sleep at night. Well, as safe as one could be in an alien invasion. There was still the constant thought looming in everyone's minds: when would the fourth wave come?

And then their question was answered.

Owen was out in the forest gathering firewood, while Teresa and Anne were putting washed clothes on the clothesline to dry. _It's like the middle ages,_ Teresa thought with a chuckle. No electricity, the plague, living in the woods; it was like a sick joke from the universe. She hadn't heard the vibrating engines in cars for what seemed like months—until that day.

That day, while Teresa and Anne were hanging the clothes on the line, and Owen was fetching firewood, Humvees—literal, moving Humvees—emerged, roaring, from the trees. There were three of them. Teresa didn't know how they were still working. The one in the middle held a man with a megaphone in his hands. He looked important, with his serious expression and posture. Two school buses followed.

"I am Colonel Vosch from the United States Army. Up until this moment we have been quarantined from the plague. We have come here to bring you all to the safest refugee camp on the planet."

Cheers came from all over the camp. Teresa looked at Anne who broke out into a grin.

"We will be bringing the children to the camp first as they are top priority. All children under the age of eighteen, please board the school buses. Everyone else head to the dining hall for further information!"

Teresa stopped smiling. "We're going to be separated. I'm not leaving you behind."

Anne looked sternly at her. "Look, this isn't a debate. You're going on that bus, whether you like it or not."

Teresa put her hands on her hips stubbornly. "You can't make me go."

Anne sighed impatiently and tucked her blonde hair behind her ears. "Tessa. We've been on the run ever since the Others invaded. This is finally a safe haven for us where we don't have to always watch our backs. It isn't like I'm not going to be at this refugee camp with you. They're just going to drop us off later."

The redhead sighed and looked away, knowing her sister was right like always. "It still isn't fair."

Anne embraced her with a sad smile. "I know. But life has never been fair. Even before the Arrival."

Teresa reciprocated the hug. "I should go find Owen. He still has no clue about any of this."

Anne tugged off the green knit scarf she wore and wrapped it around Teresa. "Be safe."

She waited until Anne left for the dining hall before heading into the woody area.

"Owen!" She called, wondering how far into the woods he went. "Owen!"

A hand came over her mouth, muffling Teresa's scream.

"Shhh! Calm down, it's just me."

Owen took his hand off her mouth. "Stop screaming, you'll attract the Others."

Teresa took a chance to observe Owen. He was not much older than her, only by a year, yet he seemed to age so much more ever since she had first met him. The plague and taken not only his family, but also his spirit. Now there were dark circles under his blue eyes from exhaustion—she knew he barely ever slept these days—and his black hair had grown unruly. He had stopped taking care of himself, she realized angrily.

"You need a haircut," Teresa muttered.

"What? Did you come all the way over here just to tell me I needed a haircut?"

"Well, no. I came to tell you that we've been rescued. But we need to hurry back to camp, so stop standing there like an idiot and let's go."

"But what about the firewood? I spent all morning collecting this," he said, motioning to the pitiful lump in his arms.

Teresa sighed exasperated. "Forget the wood, dumbass. We need to get to the school bus before it leaves."

"School bus?" He asked, and Teresa took that as a cue to grab his wrist and start running for the camp, a confused Owen in tow.

They were close enough to the camp now to see the bright yellow school bus speeding away.

"No!" Teresa almost tried chasing after the bus but Owen pulled her back.

"I thought cars didn't work anymore." He looked at the distant yellow spot in awe.

Teresa didn't think too much about it. "It's the military. Who knows what they can do."

Owen kicked a twig on the ground. "So what now? Will they come back for us?"

"Yea, don't worry. The first bus was just for children only. Another one's coming for everyone else. They're all in the dining hall. We should go tell Anne we got left back."

On the way to the hall, the pair took a detour and stopped at their tent to pack up some belongings.

"God, I'm so glad to get out of here," Teresa said, tucking in a red curl behind her ear.

"Ditto that. Imagine: a shower _with_ warm water." Owen picked up his duffle bag and started stuffing his clothes into it.

"I can't even remember what that feels like." She grinned at the thought. She snuck a glance at the unruly haired boy beside her. Once upon a time, Teresa would've fallen head over heels for a guy like Owen. Sweet, intelligent, and not to mention, totally gorgeous: the full package. There was even a time before the first wave where she thanked the arrival of the extraterrestrials for convincing her mom to move them to nan's, so that she got to live the cliché story of "the boy-next-door." It was okay living in this pretend world where aliens weren't so terrible, until, well, they killed everyone.

Owen was about to say something when screaming arose; and it came from none other than the dining hall. Teresa raced down there as fast as she could. Unfortunately, Owen was faster.

For the second time that day he had to hold her back. Gun shots filled the air.

"No! NO, stop it, let me go, Owen! Owen, let me go!" She had to get to Anne. She had to know Anne was okay.

"Tessa, be quiet!" No, she couldn't be quiet. Not now, not ever.

"I have to get to Anne!" Teresa sobbed. "Let me go! I have to get to Anne!"

More gun shots. Teresa cried out. Anne had to be okay. She was always okay.

"Tessa, they'll hear you!"

"I have to get to her! I have to know if she's okay, Owen! I have to know if she's alive—"

Owen muffled her voice with his hand and dragged them out of sight and into the trees.

More gun shots. Even more gun shots. They never stopped. It went on for about three minutes. Amazing how many lives you could take in just three minutes. Children, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters; all gone in just…three minutes. After that, there was silence.

And then the roaring of the Humvees growing quieter as they sped away. Owen kept his hand over her mouth and waited just in case. Just in case someone would pop up from out of nowhere and shoot them, too. He let go of her mouth, but she didn't say anything. There was nothing to say.

An explosion threw them into the air. They tumbled on the ground with no broken bones or sprained ankles, but the camp was not so lucky. Everything was on fire: the tents, the clotheslines, the dining hall. Even the orange evening sky seemed to be aflame.

Teresa did not know where Owen was. Spots were everywhere she looked. Before she fell into the droll of unconsciousness, one last thought went through her mind.

 _She's not okay. And she's not alive._

The green knit scarf wrapped around her neck warmed her more that night than the last remaining flames.


End file.
